


Brokenhearted Soldier

by theinsandoutsofcastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-31 22:58:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10909206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinsandoutsofcastiel/pseuds/theinsandoutsofcastiel
Summary: Request: Can u do a EndverseDeanxReader fic? Reader meet future Dean he starts acting weird around reader she has enough follows him thru the woods confronts him only to find out she was taken/dead whatever u chose. Smut begins in the woods ends in his cabin.





	Brokenhearted Soldier

Warnings: Smut, language, angst, mentions of reader’s and reader’s parents’ deaths

Fic:

You had no clue where you were or how you had gotten here, but the place looked like shit. Everything looked old, dirty, and run down. Some of the buildings were reduced to rubble and plants had grown into a wild state that looked as if no one had tended to them in years. Walking cautiously down the streets, you don’t find any signs of life. Maybe it was a good thing, given the circumstances.

“Turn around,” a deep voice demands. You instantly recognize it.

“Dean?” you ask, turning to find the man pointing a gun at you.

“Who are you?” he asks in return, refusing to lower the gun. He looked older somehow, tired.

“Dean, it’s me, Y/N, you know me,” you say holding your hands up, “What happened here?”

“If you are who you say you are, prove it,” Dean demands.

“You’ve known me since we were little,” you answer, “Your dad took me in and when my parents died and when we were old enough, we started hunting together. Sam hunted with us too.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Dean says, “Anyone could know that.”

“We snuck off to go on our first date when we were teenagers,” you continue, “Your dad was so pissed that we’d gone out without telling him that he hunted us down and practically drug us back to the motel. That night was the first time we kissed. Our first time together was several years later in the back of the Impala. The first time you said you loved me was after you’d sold your soul to save Sam’s life, You told me you only had a year left to live, but that you needed to me to know how you really, truly felt about me. I told you I loved you right then and there. Here, look, I have the ring you gave me.” Reaching into the front of your shirt, you pull out the engagement ring that you wore on a necklace in fear that you might lose it on a hunt if you wore it on your finger. “What else do you want?” you ask him

“It’s you,” Dean says almost to himself as he lowers his gun, “How is it you?”

“What do you mean?” you ask, confused.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Dean answers, “You can’t be here.”

“I don’t understand,” you admit.

“What year do you think it is?” Dean asks you.

“Is that a trick question or something? It’s two thousand and nine,” you answer.

“It’s twenty fourteen,” Dean informs you

“Stop messing around and tell me what’s really going on,” you say, shaking off his comment.

“I’m not messing around,” Dean tells you, no hint of humor in his voice, “Come on, we have to get out of here. It isn’t safe.” Dean reaches towards you as if he’s about to grab your upper arm, but thinks better of it. He raises his gun as he turns, checking that the coast is clear before motioning for you to follow. You do just that, letting him guide you through the run down streets until you see two large cars, both laden with supplies.

“Where’d you go?” a man you’d never met asks, “Who’s she?”

“None of you’d business,” Dean answers, “Get in the car, we’re heading back to camp.”

“But we haven’t -” the man begins.

“I said get in the car,” Dean interrupts, “That’s an order.” The man doesn’t protest any further and quickly does as Dean had said. “That one’s mine,” Dean tells you, pointing to the other car, “Get in.”

“What happened to Baby?” you ask him, shocked that he had claimed a car other than the Impala to be his.

“She’s not practical anymore,” Dean answers, “A lot’s changed since two thousand nine.”

“Obviously,” you whisper under your breath as you head towards the car. You get into the passenger’s side as Dean takes the driver’s seat. It was so strange to see him behind the wheel of a car other than the Impala.

You watch Dean as he drives down the road. He was cold, distant, not the Dean you knew and loved. “Stop staring,” Dean demands.

“Sorry,” you whisper, turning to look out the window. After a long silence, you begin to talk again, “You said this was twenty fourteen, right?” Dean grunts in response. “What happened?” you ask.

“The apocalypse,” Dean tells you.

“So Lucifer…” you begin, not wanting to finish the thought, “And Sam?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” Dean replies. His knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel tighter. You nod, returning to silence for the rest of the ride.

The whole time, you try to figure out how you’d gotten here. Was this a nightmare? Were you in a coma? The last thing you remembered before this was hunting a witch, so maybe this had to do with a spell or a curse. No matter what it was, you certainly weren’t in your own time and this certainly wasn’t Dean as you knew him. More than anything, if this was real and you really were in twenty fourteen, you wanted to know how to get home and how to fix things once you got there.

“We’re here,” Dean tells you as you arrive at a camp called Camp Chitaqua. A couple of people open up the fence so that the car’s can enter. As soon as Dean cuts off the engine, he gets out of the car without saying another word. You try to call after him, but he doesn’t answer.

You stand by the car, shocked and unsure what to do or where to go. “Ok, you can take the supplies to storage,” a familiar voice says. Looking over your shoulder, you see Chuck standing with a clipboard in his hand, pen scribbling away.

“Chuck?” you ask, drawing his attention. He looks up at you, staring as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Y/N?” he asks, “How are you … never mind, it’s good to see you. I thought …”

“Thought what, exactly?” you ask him.

“It’s nothing,” Chuck says shaking his head as if he’s trying to wrap his mind around something, “You must be tired. I can find you a cabin.”

“That would be nice, I guess,” you answer. You follow Chuck through the camp, walking past people you’d never seen before until one of them catches you by the arm.

“Y/N?” he questions. It takes you a moment to recognize him.

“Castiel?” you question in return, “What happened to you?” He was dressed in a loose button up shirt and jeans. On top of his new wardrobe, he also sported a beard that you had never seen on the angel. Even his voice sounded different.

“The apocalypse,” Cas grins, “It taught me to enjoy the finer things in life.” He winks at a woman as she walks by and she giggles something about seeing him at the orgy later.

“Orgy?” you ask in shock. Cas shrugs and smiles. “The apocalypse has really changed you,” you comment, “Dean too, I guess.”

“You don’t know, do you?” Cas asks, his smile instantly fading, “Stupid question. The real question is how did you get here?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” you question, frustrated, “I know this isn’t my time, but why does everyone making it sound like a damn surprise that I’m here. What happened to me that I shouldn’t be here?”

“You should talk to Dean,” Cas tells you, his hand slipping from your arm, “It isn’t my place to say anything.”

“Fine, I will,” you answer, “… Where is he?”

“His cabin most likely,” Chuck tells you, “I can take you there if you want.”

“Would you please?” you request.

“This way,” Chuck says, nodding in the direction he planned on going. You follow him, determined to find out why Dean was acting as if you’d done something to hurt him.

Dean is leaving his cabin just as you reach it. “We need to talk,” you demand as Dean shoulders his gun and closes the door of his cabin.

“Stay away from me,” Dean demands in return. He pushes past you and stalks off towards the woods.

“No,” you reply, determined, “I’m not going to do that.”

“I forgot how fucking stubborn you could be,” Dean mutters as he continues walking. You follow after him, almost running in order to keep up with his strides.

“Dean, why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” you ask.

“You think I know?” Dean asks, “If I knew how you were here, I’d send you back to whatever year you belong in.”

“You don’t want me here?” you question, hurt.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Dean answers, “It’s just that you don’t belong here.”

“Then where do I belong?” you press.

“Anywhere that’s not near me,” Dean answers. Your heart breaks and you nearly stumble over a fallen branch. Dean keeps walking as you stop in your tracks.

“What did I do, Dean?” you question, voice shaking, “What did I do to make you hate me so much?” Dean stops in his tracks, still with his back to you.

“Is that what you think?” Dean asks.

“What am I supposed to think? You barely talk to me, you refuse to look at me or touch me. It sounds like I broke your heart and it’s killing me. Dean, tell me what I did and when I go back to my time, I can fix it.”

“I don’t hate you, Y/N, I never have and I never will.” Dean replies, “Hell, I’m pretty sure I’ll love you until the day I die.”

“Then what?” you ask, “Why won’t you talk to me?”

“You don’t get it, do you?” he asks, frustrated, “I lost you, Y/N. I held you in my arms and I watched you die. Your blood was literally on my hands and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop it. Sam … Lucifer stood over us, watching you die, listening to me beg for your life and it was like entertainment to him. I begged him to let me trade places with you, to give my life for yours, but he wouldn’t. He said it would be more interesting to watch me live without you, and that’s what he did. He forced me to live while you died in my arms. I don’t hate you, Y/N, I hate myself for bringing you into this mess. I hate myself for not fighting harder, I hate myself for failing you, and I hate myself for losing you. Seeing you now, it’s like reliving that moment all over again because I’ll be losing you all over again.”

As he speaks, you move closer, waiting for his speech to come to an end. “Dean,” you whisper softly, placing your hand gently on his shoulder.

“Don’t touch me,” Dean says, shrugging off your hand. It hurt to see him like this, blaming himself for something you were sure wasn’t his fault.

“Don’t push me away,” you plead.

“Do you know how many times I thought about what I’d do if I got you back?” Dean asks, “I’d hold you in my arms and kiss you again, tell you that I loved you and that I’d do anything to try to make up for failing you; but seeing you now, there’s nothing I want more than to keep you at a distance. It’s the only way to protect you. I’d rather lose you like that than watch your lifeless body go up in flames again.” You couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Dean Winchester,” you say firmly as you move to stand in front of him, “Whatever happened was not your fault, so stop it with this self loathing bullshit. I’m from the past, tell he exactly what happened so when I go back, I can fix it.”

“I’ve missed you,” Dean says, almost smiling, but the expression fades and his tone changes, “When you get back, leave me. Break my heart so badly that I’ll never come looking for you. That’s the only way you’ll be safe.”

“Damn it, Dean,” you huff. Moving closer to him, you place a hand on his chest, the other on the nape of his neck. This time, he doesn’t push you away. “Do you remember what you said when you proposed?” you ask him.

“I promised to protect you, and I failed,” Dean answers.

“You also promised to stay by my side,” you remind him, “Because no matter what happens, we can figure things out together. Pushing me away isn’t going to keep me safe, you are.”

“How then?” Dean asks, looking up from the ground, a tear rolling down his cheek. 

“Tell me what happened so that I can prevent it,” you instruct.

“I’m not sure it works that way,” Dean says.

“It’s worth a try,” you insist. Dean sighs, nodding his head slightly.

“January twelfth, twenty thirteen. We were trying to find a way to force Lucifer to stop using Sam as a vessel,” Dean explains, “We’d run out of options and you thought that if we could talk to him, appeal to Sam somehow, we could get him to fight back. We both knew it was crazy, but we had no other way to fight back. I was stupid and I actually let you go through with it, I let you get too close and he stabbed you with an angel blade. If I had been closer, or made you keep your distance …”

“Ok,” you nod your head as you process what he’d said, “January twelfth, twenty thirteen. I plan on staying in bed with you and staying alive.”

“If I don’t lose you that day, I might lose you another,” Dean says sadly.

“Dean, you’re not going to lose me,” you state, “I’m going to fix this, I promise.”

“Why don’t you hate me?” Dean asks.

“Why would I ever hate you?”

“I let you down.”

“I’m right here, Dean. You didn’t let me down because you’re saving me right now.”

“It doesn’t feel that way.”

“I know,” you tell him as you lean in to press a kiss to his cheek. You pull him closer and press a kiss to his lips, but Dean pushes you away.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks you, “I’m not your Dean.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that,” you admit.

“I’m not the same man I was in two thousand and nine,” Dean explains, “I’m broken.”

“It doesn’t matter what year it is,” you assure him, “It could be two thousand and nine, twenty fourteen, or twenty fifty-two for all I care. You are my Dean and you always will be. No matter what happens or who you become, I will love you.” Dean slowly places his hands on your sides and you easily let him pull your body close to his.

“I’ve missed you,” Dean repeats. He leans into your touch as you cup his cheek.

“You won’t have to,” you promise, “I’m going to go back and fix this. You aren’t going to lose me.” Dean finally lets himself smile, but it’s tired and sad.

“You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to see your face again,” Dean whispers, resting his forehead against yours, “To hold you in my arms and tell you I love you. To kiss you, touch you, make love to you.”

“You can, I’m right here,” you tell him, cupping his face between your hands. Dean shakes his head at your answer, but doesn’t protest when you press your lips to his. This may not be the Dean you knew, but he was still a version of the man you loved and he needed you.

Dean’s arms wrap around you and he guides you backward until your back hits a tree. “I love you,” Dean whispers over and over again against your lips. One of his arms stays wrapped around you, his other hand moving up to cup your cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” he adds, “Just like I remember.”

Dean’s lips migrate to your neck and you tilt your head back against the tree in order to give him better access to your skin. Running your hands down his body, you palm him through his jeans, making him groan loudly. Dean rocks his hips towards your hand as he brushes your hair over your shoulder, kissing lower on your neck.

A sudden ‘crack’ of a nearby branch causes Dean to pull away quickly. He swings his gun off his shoulder and aims it towards where the noise came from. There’s nothing to be seen, but it doesn’t seem to satisfy Dean as he continues to keep his gun raised. “It was just the wind,” you insist, but Dean refuses.

You tug at Dean’s clothing, trying to regain his attention, but he catches your wrist and pulls away. “Not here,” Dean says, “Too exposed.”

“There’s no one here,” you assure him.

“I can’t put you in danger, not again,” Dean says, “Being out here … like this … it’s too dangerous.”

“You had a cabin, right?” you ask, “Let’s go there.”

“Why do you want me anyway?” Dean questions, despondent. He was trying to push you away again and you’d be damned if you were going to let him.

“Because, Dean Winchester, I love you,” you answer, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look at you, “I told you before, I always have and I always will, and there’s not a damn thing you could do to change that.”

“Y/N -” he begins.

“I hate seeing you like this, Dean,” you interrupt as you close the distance between you, “I don’t want you to ever feel like you were the cause of something that happened to me. I chose this life and any decisions I made were my own.”

“I can’t stand that I lost you,” Dean whispers sadly, tears welling in his eyes.

“Come here,” you say softly, pulling him to you and holding him tight against you as his hands fist in your jacket, “Let’s go back to your cabin.” Dean gives you little resistance as you guide him back toward his cabin. He straightens himself up as he reaches the edge of the woods, wiping away stray tears and trying to make himself look like the strong leader he was fighting to be.

“Chuck, I need you to find someone to take my shift,” Dean calls out.

“On it,” Chuck calls back before heading off in the other direction. You slip your hand into Dean’s and squeeze, letting him know that you were there. Dean squeezes back.

“Are you really here?” Dean asks, “This isn’t just some dream or a hallucination?”

“Hell if I know,” you shrug, making Dean smile to himself and shake his head, “I have no clue how I got here. I’m a hunter, not a time traveler. This is all new to me.”

Dean guides you up the steps to the front door of his cabin, stopping you right outside. “I’m sorry about the mess,” Dean apologizes, “I don’t spend a lot of time here and when I do, it’s not spent cleaning.”

“It can’t be any worse than the motels we’ve been staying in,” you laugh.

“That’s what you think,” Dean mumbles as he unlocks the door. He pushes the door open and invites you inside. Dean hadn’t been lying, it was a mess and you can’t stop yourself from teasing him. He sighs as he closes the door and locks it. The next thing you know, Dean’s hands are on your hips. “Now I know it’s really you,” Dean says as he backs you up towards the table, “You’re the only one who would tease me like that.” Swiping his arm across the table, he knocks maps and books to the floor. 

“I’m the only one you’d let tease you like that,” you tell him, reaching up to thread your fingers through his hair. Dean lifts you from the floor and sets you down on the table, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Are you sure this is alright?” Dean asks as he presses kisses to your neck.

“Unless sleeping with the future you is considered cheating on the past you, I think it’s ok,” you tell him.

“I think my past self would understand,” Dean says, his hands slipping beneath your jacket and pushing it from your shoulders, “The way I needed you, it never changed. Having to live without you has been…” Dean doesn’t seem able to finish his sentence.

“You won’t have to live without me,” you promise, “I’m going to fix this.”

“I’ve missed you,” Dean repeats. His hands slip beneath your shirt, rough fingertips gently caressing your skin.

“I love you, Dean,” you tell him time and time again. You wanted to make sure he knows that you mean what you say and no matter what he thinks, that could never change.

Lifting your hands over your head, you allow Dean to pull your shirt off. Your bra follows next. Goosebumps rise on your skin and your nipples pebble as the cold air of Dean’s cabin rushes over you. You don’t have long to think about the cold air. Dean tears his jacket from him, followed by his shirt. His arms wrap around you as he pulls you to him, his body right up against yours. You sigh as his warmth sinks into you, your fingertips pressing into the skin of his shoulders as you pull him closer.

“I love you,” Dean whispers between placing kisses along your shoulder. You place kisses against his skin in return, your fingertips dragging down his back. Dean groans as you wrap your legs tighter around his waist, grinding him against you.

“I need you, Dean,” you whisper before drawing his earlobe out between your teeth. Dean groans and his eyes are shut as you pull away from him. When he opens his eyes, they’re lust filled. The pupils are so dilated that only a thin ring of green surrounds them. You let your fingertips travel down to his belt buckle, undoing it before pulling his belt through the loops. Dropping the belt to the floor, you unbutton his jeans and pull down the zipper. Dean captures your lips as he reaches for the buckle of your belt, mirroring your actions. Dean kicks off his boots as he removes yours, dropping them to the floor. You push his jeans and boxers down around his ankles, his hard cock springing free, and he kicks them from his feet. Lifting your hips from the table, you help Dean as he hooks his fingers into your pants and panties, pulling them down.

Once the material is gone, Dean’s hands move down to your thighs and he grabs you, lifting you from the table and carrying you to his bed. He lays you back against the messy sheets, his body caging you beneath him. The way his hands explore your body, it’s familiar but not exactly the same as what you were used to. He was re-familiarizing himself with your body and committing each inch to memory. Though you planned on changing things, you knew very well that this may be the last time he ever saw you; and so did he.

Dean whispers his love for you over and over again as his lips explore your body. Moans slip from your lips as Dean rocks his hips against yours, his hard cock creating friction against your clit. “Dean, please,” you whisper, moving against him. Dean groans, his eyes shut tight. He rests one arm beside your head, his hand fisting in your hair. His other hand moves down to your hip, holding you gently as he lines himself up with your entrance. Cupping his cheek, you bring his lips to yours, kissing him deeply as he sinks into you.

“Y/N,” Dean sighs, giving you time to adjust to his size. He kisses you lovingly as he begins to move, slow and easy. You can tell he’s savoring each sensation, letting himself remember how it feels to be with you, inside you.

“I love you,” you whisper to him, your hips lifting to meet his. Dean’s fingers dig into your skin, holding tight as if he’s afraid of letting go. You place kisses against his shoulder as he moves inside you, your nails dragging down his back.

Dean groans your name, repeating it like a prayer. His breath fans across your skin as he nestles his face into the crook of your neck. Gasps and moans escape your lips as Dean twitches and throbs inside you. His hand slides down from your hip and hooks behind your knee, drawing your leg up around his waist. He shifts his hips and you cry out as the new angle has Dean hitting your g-spot perfectly. Dean groans as your walls pull tight and flutter around him.

“Hold on,” Dean whispers, “Wait for me.” You wrap your leg tight around his waist, drawing him deep inside you with each roll of his hips.

“Dean, please,” you moan as pressure builds within you, “I can’t.” Dean swallows hard, nodding as he groans. His pace falls out of rhythm, but remains gentle and loving.

“Y/N,” he groans, lips close to your ear, “Oh, Y/N.” You moan his name in return, fighting to hold on as he brings you right to the edge of climax. Dean’s hand disentangles from your hair and moves to cup your cheek, bringing your lips to his as he reaches his high. Reaching up, you intertwine his fingers with his and he presses your hand back against the pillow beside your head. “Y/N,” Dean groans against your lips, the feeling of him coming undone and spilling himself inside you bringing you over the edge.

“Dean!” you sigh, the sound muffled by Dean’s lips on yours. Your walls clamp down around his pulsing cock, each of you prolonging the other’s orgasm. Dean continues to roll his hips, working you both through your highs until the aftershocks subside.

“I love you, Y/N,” Dean whispers against your lips between kisses.

“I’m glad to know that you still love me after all the crap I’m sure we’ve been through,” you tell him. Dean looks down at you with eyes full of love and longing and heartbreak.

“Don’t for one second think that I will ever stop loving you,” Dean answers, his thumb tracing along your cheekbone. Reluctantly, Dean pulls himself from you and moves to your side, wrapping his arms around you to make sure you don’t go anywhere. You snuggle up to him, resting your head against his chest. “Don’t leave me,” Dean requests as he nestles his face into your hair, “You could stay here, with me, and you’d be safe.”

“I can’t,” you reply, “If I stayed here, the past version of you would hate me. You’d think I abandoned you.”

“Better that than losing you the way I did,” Dean refutes, “If you go back, you’ll just be leaving me all over again.” His fingers play absentmindedly with the engagement ring hanging from the necklace around your neck.

“Don’t think of it like that,” you press, “I’m not leaving you; I’m going back to you so that we can be together. I will fix this, Dean, you just have to trust me.”

“You promise?” Dean asks. Moving to prop yourself up on one elbow you look down at Dean, cupping his cheek in your hand.

“I promise,” you assure him, “When I figure out how to get back to my own time, there’s not a damn thing that can take me from you.”

“Damn, you have no clue how much I’ve missed you,” Dean says with a half hearted smile, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you tell him, letting him pull you in for a kiss.


End file.
